Bloody Knuckles
by Kaitos-V-ibrator
Summary: Angst warning, no pairings, Thomas is just having a bad day. Chris seems to be the focus of this


It was another one of those looks he gave him.

It was just enough to get his blood turning icey again. The feeling of wanting nothing more than to smash his fists against every wall, window, and especially face that came into view.

He was getting fed up with this.

Things were suppose to have changed.

They were suppose to all be a family again.

Michael was the cute little brother, Tron the caring father, and Chris the stern but kind older brother.

Wasn't that how this shit was suppose to work?

Apparently that just fucking wasn't how shit reality worked.

At this point in his life, he gave less than two fucks about Tron. Tron was just a shell of his former self, an unfeeling presence that swept around their large, empty house. He was never much of a father anyways, to Thomas at least, so it wasn't that much of a change.

Thomas had not wanted his father as much as Chris or maybe Michael did. Thomas wanted his brothers back. He wanted Michael and Chris to smile again, not be clouded with some invisible burden he could do nothing to fight against.

His little brother wilted away into a quiet, dull child who barely spoke a word. A fuck ton of that had to be his fault, but he had no clue what the hell he was doing back then anyways.

He just wanted everyone to be together again. And they were.

It just wasn't like he had expected it to be.

Michael had grown up. He was almost as tall as Thomas was, and was sure to out grow him soon enough. His bastard father, not Tron, he remembered was a fair bit shorter than Byron. Michael looked like their mother did. He got all the good traits. Chris looked the most like Byron had, but still held an air of being a different, stronger man.

Thomas had stopped giving a fuck about these little details in his life ages ago…okay maybe months? Weeks…ah who gave a fuck.

Either way, his constant companion was off going to school, making friends, and was even able to hold intelligent conversations with Chris.

It was…fucking lonely.

The facade of being some hot-shot duelist was wearing thin. People never saw his real face, and he didn't want them to. Everyone he ever loved had left him. They moved onto someone better.

People only liked him for the mask he put on. And fuck it, he hated them for it. Hated them for it, so he wouldn't go back to hating himself.

But it was the last, nasty glare Chris had given him that was setting him off.

Chris smiled now…yeah, he smiled. Around his fucking piece of shit of a boyfriend. He'd catch Chris giving him lovey-dovey eyes, or teasing him slightly…

Shit that just made Thomas want to throw up.

He knew he should be happy to see his older brother happy, but fuck…fuck…

Chris just…never was that happy around him.

Why the fuck would he be?

Wasn't there…some kind of obligation siblings had to have to one another? That…that Chris had to…by some imaginary law, look at him softly for a change?

Thomas himself rarely came home much anyways. But when he did, he was greeted with that cold, uninviting stare. Chris' eyes were nothing like the gentle eyes of the man who was once his brother. The one who would make them lunch or read them stories sometimes.

How fucking pathetic is it for a grown man to miss that kind of shit?

He just couldn't fucking help it!| He just wanted to stop caring…he just wanted to cut them all out of his life. But something about fighting so long…for so little…

It was making him stick around. That somewhere in there was a tiny glimmer of hope.

Hope, heh…

At first he used to excuse to himself that Michael needed him. But fuck, Michael didn't need him anymore. None of them did. He felt awkward and out of place there.

He was a good enough duelist to be on his own…he just…fucking didn't want to be.

Back when Tron had first recruited them all, Thomas felt himself thrust into a situation he hadn't been prepared for.

He remembered opening the old orphanage doors, (he hardly stayed there, dueling was his life) to find Chris of all people standing on the other side.

It had honestly been years since he had seen his older brother. To be fair, Thomas avoided all the rare visits Chris made. They were virtually non-existant visits at this point. It was too difficult for Thomas to face his obsessed brother.

Thomas had thought…their father was just dead. He wanted Chris and Michael to move on and just be together. But Chris was hell-bent on finding him. Choking back a, "why would you leave us," at every occassion was getting harder and harder. So Thomas decided it would be better to just avoid the elder.

He didn't need him anyways.

Yet, when he saw the looming figure of what he instantly recognized to be his big brother (for a foolish moment he thought it was Byron…) Thomas shut his eyes tightly, attempting to quell his rising tears.

Scrunching down his eyebrows, and lifting his arms up in what he intended to make into a hug, he felt himself abruptly stopped by the pressure of his brothers hands gripping his wrists.

Thomas froze in his place, opening his scrunched up eyes to meet the ever-cold look of the elder.

He had never felt more torn up.

He was just…excited to see him. Looking back on it, he realized Chris must have thought he was trying to punch him or something…

Still…it stung.

Taking a few breaths to steady himself, Thomas entered the Arclight household with heavy legs. It was nearly…two, three am? His arms felt like lead, and he didn't bother checking his watch. Maybe he could see if Michael was still sleeping? Kid didn't slep until late anyways…it'd just be nice to see him.

Stopping by the kitchen to get some water, Thomas felt his heart jolt into his throat upon seeing Chris tangled up with his….with…that disgusting Tenjo guy.

Quickly parting from their deep embrace, Chris gave Thomas something of an annoyed look before standing up to guide Kaito out of the room.

Thomas turned away from the couple to try and get some of the water down his parched throat…but suddenly…

His throat felt all stiff and clogged up.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The most pathetic, childish part of his mind cried out to him in what he had to curse. Chris didn't ask where he had been, why he had been out late…

Personally he never let Michael go out late by himself (unless accompanied by him). But shit was different between him and Chris.

Chris didn't give a fuck about him.

Gripping the glass tightly, Thomas didn't register when the glass oozed out between his fingers and into his skin. He was just angry. He was angry, and he didn't want to admit to why.

Shaking the glass off his hand, Thomas narrowed his eyes and decided he'd do something he'd been dying to do for years now.

Shaking a few flecks of blood onto the counter and dully admiring his hand, the young man smoothened back his hair and made his way to the living room.

"What is it, Thomas?" Chris questioned hurridly, not bothering to look up at the younger.

"I don't like your tone." Thomas muttered, using his clean hand to grip Chris by the collar, and the bloodied hand to grinde into his face. Ah, that felt good. The impact of the boney flesh against his own pulsing wound gave Thomas a rush he hadn't felt in a long time.

It felt good to make someone else suffer with him. So, so fucking good.

Chris spat out a mixture of the youngers blood and his own onto the carpet, trying to regain his balance and grip Thomas around the shoulders.

He was the older brother, he needed to teach him some respect.

Unaware of the livid mood Thomas was experiancing, Chris leered down at the younger and gripped him tightly around his collar bone.

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growled, gesturing for Kaito to stay back, "Kaito leave it. I'll deal with him."

"Fucking, try." Thomas challenged, kneeing Chris squarely in his disgustingly, horrifyingly skinny ribs.

The elder jolted back, doubling over from where Thomas was ready to keep pounding on. He'd beat the shit out oh him, make him bleed worse than he had ever done before. Thomas didn't give a damn about this asshole, never did.

Gripping Chris fully in his embrace, Thomas couldn't help but mutter in his ear, "aww, is it that bad hugging me?"

"…you sick fuck…" Chris coughed, eyes red with fury.

Kaito dove into the fray in a flurry, trying to rip the two away from each other before they could do any serious damage to one another.

"Thomas what are you doing!" Michael broke through, gripping the elder from behind with all his might.

"Fuck off, kid! He had it coming!" Thomas squirmed, still in enough control of his emotions to know not to struggle too hard…he'd…hurt Michael if he did…

"Enough of this! Kaito, take Chris and get him cleaned up. I've got Thomas." Michael tried to mediate, placing himself between his two older brothers. What had…he hadn't seen Thomas for the last week, and now he wakes up to all this shouting…"What happened to your hand? Where have you even been?!"

"…doesn't matter." Thomas sighed, leaning against his youngerr brother slightly. His fists were still thirsting for some contact, but with Michael shoving himself in the way of them like that, it wasn't like he really had a choice.

"Yeah it does! You don't answer your phone, you don't call me. You don't tell me where you go, or what you're doing—just stop being an asshole for a second and talk to me!" Michael growled lowly, tears burning down his cheeks. First he needed to gix up Thomas' hand…then…then maybe get him something to eat?

He had been in his fair share of fights when he was younger, but never something like assaulting Chris or Thomas. Something was bothering him…

"…whatever kid, just leave me alone."

"No I will not. Now stand still. I have to clean this." he scolded, pressing his lips to Thomas' forehead briefly. Dammit he had missed him…why did he have to go out like that all the time?

Kissing the bandaged hand lightly a couple dozen times, Michael dragged his brother over to his room so they could rest together.

"Michael." Kaito spoke carefully, eyeing the two curiously.

"Leave it. Tell Chris we're going to talk about this in the morning, but for now everyone is going to sleep."

"But—"

"No. I'm entrusting you with one of my big brothers, so either do your job, or get lost." Turning away from the other and shutting the bedroom door behind him, Thomas couldn't help but laugh as Michael locked it and glowered through it at Kaito.

"Nice." he weakly offered, feeling some of the rage from earlier lift from his chest.

"Mmm, bed." Michael tried to scold, only to be interuppted by a yawn.

"Sure, sure…thanks."

"Whatever, kid," Michael teased, snuggling against his brother and stroking his hair. "We'll talk in the morning…just…I…missed you. No more running off like that. It's…it's not fair…"

"…mmkay…" Thomas dreamily muttered, Michael's warm presence over riding the rhymic pulsing of where his fists made contact with Chris' face.

He knew it was probably wrong to lose his shit like that, but for now it still felt like the best thing. Fuck Chris…

He knew he could be a better brother than that. He'd…give Michael everything he ever wanted in a brother. In a…friend.

It wasn't going to be pretty tomorrow, but at least he could sleep off the bitter edge of his rage.

He should…accept this kids help every once in a while. He was a smart kid…they were friends.


End file.
